Second Stanza: [ACTION/WRITTEN/VOICE]

[burns_so_brightly]

[Sitting in the tea shop, Julian Bell is looking restless, his tea untouched and growing cold. He chews the end of his pen as his journal lies open on the table before him. All at once, he starts writing furiously.]

Expose the world, anatomize,
Strip clothes from skin, strip skin, then flesh, from bone.
Himself no surgeon, true, can sterilize,
But yet the self-infection can be shown.
Corrode and doubt; anesthetize the heart;
Morphia or curiosity drown the reviving smart.

Clear as white water in the stream we see
Shadowed the species of eternity;
The working process, self a working part:
For not one necessary fiction's grace
Can quite make mask th' observer's outward face,
Or thought one extra atom's movement start.

The moving pointer tells, and having told
Not the immediacy of hot and cold,
Nor yet the pale abstraction of a mind
(For algebra and instruments record
No immanent emergence of the Word.)
Tells solid, painful foothold all we find.

Why turn, why seek, why question for an end?
Why hope? Time flows: shows useless to defend
A cosy corner in the rising flood.
The tide is coming in: the dykes are down:
War, Terror, Poverty, swing through the town,
And the cold wind claims to be understood.

[It feels like it's been too long since he wrote. He's trying to get the juices going again, but this lazy, mind-numbing monotony of Luceti life is making it hard, so he started with something he's already written. Heck, maybe someone will give him feedback and he can better it. Some ten or fifteen minutes later, he picks up the journal and speaks.]

I think we should have a philosophy club here, or some such thing. Nothing exclusive, just a few inquisitive minds wanting intellectual stimulation. Mondays at eight in the tea shop. Any biters?

[OOC: Feel free to run into him around town as well as at the tea shop. He'll be getting groceries and checking out the library, and tonight, he'll be at Cloud Nine.

Also: the above poem was written by the actual Julian Bell and not me.  No profit made from it.]

Comments

2/2

[herotypical]

D-date? Did you just say...date?

[burns_so_brightly]

Is...I-I mean, you can say no, of course. I just...wanted to know, since...I like you a lot, and...

[Oh, he is so lame.]

[herotypical]

Wow. I mean -- wow. It's...kinda been a while since anyone's asked me on one of those. I mean -- really asked me. For real. Unequivocally. With those words. And without any...[ fake-dating.

wow. a marriage proposal and a date-request all in one month. she...huh.

and as she did with the proposal, she doesn't quite answer this question. not yet. ]

A-a lot, huh?

[burns_so_brightly]

A lot. Actually, I'm...finding it hard to believe it's really been that long for you. The men around here must be completely mad or homosexual.

[And if they were all homosexual, Anthony would not be complaining about how long it's been.]

[herotypical]

[ o-oh. wow. that's... ]

Only a little mad. Maybe...maybe a little more mad than usual, lately. But that's okay. I don't mind. Not -- not really.

[ poor jack. though it doesn't occur to her that it sounds like she's speaking generally. ]

[burns_so_brightly]

So is that a yes?

[herotypical]

Hmm?

[ awh crap. ]

Look, Jules. Julian. It's not that you're not...I mean -- it's not you, it's me.

[ this is almost as horrible as that one time she accidentally groped him. ] Wow. I can't believe I just said that.

[burns_so_brightly]

...Oh. [A beat. Yeah, he's pretty sure that means it's him.] Really?

1/3

[herotypical]

It's just...I'm otherwise engaged, Julian.

2/3

[herotypical]

Not engaged-engaged. I didn't mean that I'm...we're not...oh, Jesus.

3/3

[herotypical]

I'm...seeing someone. I really really really didn't mean to give you the wrong impression and oh-my-God-I'm-sorry.

[burns_so_brightly]

[A beat.] Oh, well.

[Another beat.]

If you're not looking, then. We can still be friends, can't we?

[herotypical]

That'd be nice. Friends. I'd...like that.

[burns_so_brightly]

So would I!

[A beat.]

Come join me in the tea shop? As friends, of course.

[herotypical]

I could do that. I could definitely do that. Soonish?

[burns_so_brightly]

Soonish! I've nowhere else to be.

[herotypical]

[ the clatter of getting ready. ]

It's not...gonna be awkward -- is it?

[burns_so_brightly]

[He laughs.]

Buffy, only a few days ago I agreed to set my ex up if I could. I don't think this will be awkward.

[herotypical]

...How progressive. Okay. I dig.

[ she zips up her jacket. the horror is slowly turning into a kind of...flattered elation. ]

[burns_so_brightly]

I'll see you soon.

[herotypical]

[ give her about twenty minutes and she breezes into the tea shop -- she actually hasn't been by since the time she and julian had met.

she sinks into a chair across from him. ] Hi, friend.

[burns_so_brightly]

[He immediately puts out a cigarette.] Hello, friend. [An easy grin, like they now have an inside joke.] Still want to philosophize?

[herotypical]

Is that how it works? Do we just knuckle down and go alright, philosophizing now. Shouldn't we have togas or something?

[burns_so_brightly]

[A laugh.] We could! Though don't you think a group of folks wearing tweed and drinking gin is a bit more scholarly?

[herotypical]

Oh, I don't wear tweed. It clashes with my dignity. [ a beat. ] And I don't drink gin. So I guess that means I'm toga-bound.